


The Odd Couple

by missdibley



Series: The Red Nose Diaries [71]
Category: British Actor RPF, Tom Hiddleston - Fandom
Genre: Eventual Smut, Existing Relationship, F/M, Fluff, London, eventual angst, the odd couple - Freeform, the red nose diaries, tom hiddleston - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-29
Updated: 2017-10-10
Packaged: 2019-01-06 20:39:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12218541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missdibley/pseuds/missdibley
Summary: The end of Hamlet at RADA coincides with the Jewish New Year, a holiday which happens to bring a very important guest to Tom and Carmen's.





	1. Chapter 1

Aquarius | Jan. 20 to Feb. 18: While it’s true that only God can judge you, it also won’t take Him more than a couple seconds.  
[The Onion, “Your Horoscopes — Week of September 12, 2017”](http://www.theonion.com/horoscope/your-horoscopes-week-september-12-2017-56911)

* * *

The timing could have been better.

This is what Tom thought to himself as he lay in bed alone on Sunday morning. The morning after  _ Hamlet’s _ closing night, his embodiment of the Danish prince done and dusted. Put away.

For the time being at least.

Tom felt tired, a deeper kind of tired than what he had been used to during the run. Tiredness that made him want to melt into the mattress, let the relief wash over him. He had done a good job. He knew it.

It had felt good to go on stage again. There was that feeling he had missed, that of venturing into the unknown of live theater. Especially in such an intimate space share with a different audience every night. The frisson that came from all of them, the cast and crew, making a work of art that lived only for those few hours they shared together.

It was a thrill that lingered throughout the night. But when he awoke that morning, the thrill was replaced by a sense of dread. For, instead of having a lie-in, well deserved after three straight weeks of playing Hamlet to adoring fans, Tom was going to face one last audience. The toughest audience, with potentially the toughest critic ever to judge him, he had faced.

Carmen’s best friend Anne, known to one and all as Annie, was coming over for Sunday lunch.

Tom took his time coming downstairs. He made the bed, shed his clothes and took a shower. He thought about shaving the beard he’d grown for Hamlet, but reconsidered when he thought of Carmen nuzzling him. How she’d laugh at the feeling of it on her bare skin. Tom kept the beard, and took extra care with the hair on his head. Once it was oh-so-casually tousled with just a palmful of mousse and a fingertip of pomade and a daub of gel, he dressed and looked for Carmen. Tom found her in the lounge, frowning at the wall where the books, hers and Tom’s, lined shelves that ran from the floor almost to the ceiling.

If Carmen knew that he was there, she did not acknowledge his presence. Tom watched her, studying the absentminded way she rubbed the nape of her neck with her right hand. By way of greeting, Tom came to stand behind her, setting his hands on her hips and resting his chin on top of her head.

Carmen looked up and down the shelves, a eyebrows furrowed with concern as she read the titles and author names to herself. At her feet there were cardboard boxes, flattened and ready to be recycled now that they were emptied of their contents. 

“Did you rearrange all of our books, love?”

“Just added the last of mine from storage.” Carmen lifted her face, seeking the touch of his lips to her forehead. “Do they look okay?”

Tom nodded. “They look good to me.”

“Okay,” said Carmen, a bit uncertainly.

“When do they get here?”

Carmen turned, taking Tom’s arm so she could check the time on his watch. “Thirty minutes,” she signed.

“And you’re sure it’s okay we’re having brunch here? It’s not too late to find a place to book.”

Carmen nodded. “It sounds like all they want to do is eat, maybe check out a museum or two, then get a good night’s sleep before flying back to Chicago in the morning.”

“They’re welcome to stay here,” offered Tom. “We can give Annie and Aaron our room.”

She stood on tiptoe, waiting for Tom to duck so she could kiss his cheek. “I know but they didn’t want to impose, not even for a night.”

“But it wouldn’t be an imposition…” Tom was interrupted by Carmen putting her hand over his lips.

“No use. Annie’s made up her mind.”

“Well, perhaps I can pay for their hotel? Or upgrade their room?”

Carmen shook her head, then smiled up at him. “What are you up to, Cambridge?”

Tom scoffed, then smiled back. “I’m not up to anything.”

“You’re not nervous, are you?”

“Me? Nervous?”

“Yes, sir.”

Tom arched an eyebrow. “Madame, what could I possibly be nervous about?”

“Meeting my best friend for the first time,” Carmen replied. “After we’ve been together for two and a half years.”

“Two and a half years, in which we got engaged, broke up…” Tom trailed off.

“And got back together,” said Carmen firmly. She pulled him in for a hug.

“Does she approve of me yet?” Tom whispered.

“No,” admitted Carmen, squeezing him gently. “But she will.”

“Will she?”

“It’s not like she wants to murder you anymore,” Carmen pointed out.

“But the whole punching me in the dick thing, that’s still on the table, right?”

“Yes, baby,” she replied.

Carmen ran her hands up his chest, then around to the nape of his neck. Tom bowed forward and kissed her.

“But if it helps,” she murmured against his lips, “Annie can’t punch for  _ shit _ .”

Half an hour later, Tom was putting a platter of scrambled eggs in the oven to warm, when he heard Carmen’s phone ring from the next room. As soon as he heard her squeak “Ohmygod, I’m coming out right now!” Tom squared his shoulders and took a deep breath.  _ Here we go _ , he thought to himself, then joined Carmen in the lounge to welcome their guests.

The door was open, and through it Tom saw her get swept up into the arms of someone. Before he could see who it was, two laughing children burst into the house. They stopped, their laughter quieting, when they saw Tom standing there.

A girl of nine and a boy of four, Heidi and her brother Doron were tall for their age, with curly blond hair and bright blue eyes. Truth be told, the boy looked remarkably like Tom when he was that age. Tom couldn’t help but smile back at the child, who was now peering at him shyly from behind his sister’s skirt.

The girl strode forward and planted herself squarely in front of Tom. She poked him in the chest with a toy wand.

“Have you been sorted?” She asked.

“Wh- what?” Tom stammered. “Sorted?”

The girl narrowed her eyes, but she smiled at him. “Hmm. Spoken like a true Hufflepuff.”

“I don’t think so, Heids.” Carmen came in, setting down two shopping bags by the front door. “He hasn’t been sorted yet, but I’m pretty sure he’s a Ravenclaw.”

“Hmph,” replied the girl. “You  _ would _ say that, Aunt Carmen. You’re a Gryffindor.”

“Just like me,” came a slightly nasal voice. “Heidi, put your wand away.” The owner of the slightly nasal voice joined her daughter in front of Tom.

“Tom.” She squinted. “You’ve met the children, I see.” Pushing Heidi’s wand down, she offered her hand to him.

“I’m Annie.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tom finally meets Carmen's best friend from home. What does she make of him?

He was taller than she’d expected.

Annie thought this about Tom as she watched her son wash his hands. They were upstairs in the bathroom, Doron having needed the toilet almost as soon as they arrived. Doron’s hands were still damp as he ran off, back downstairs to pester his sister and duck under the coffee table to play with his toy trains. Annie took her time, walking down the corridor to look idly at the photographs and posters on the walls. Pausing at the top of the stairs to consider the scene below.

Tom was tall, with long arms and big hands, but he carried himself well. He was almost graceful, not hesitating to reach down and pat Doron’s back when the little boy hugged him around the knees. And while he may have stammered upon meeting Heidi, who was single-minded in her goal to sort everything and everyone she met into the great houses of Hogwarts (“Tom’s a Hufflepuff, but we’ll let him continue thinking he’s a Ravenclaw, okay?” Heidi had whispered to Carmen), Annie couldn’t help but be charmed.

He was educated and handsome, well-mannered and warm. Friendly. His handshake was firm and, while she had not indulged herself, she knew from Carmen that Tom was a good hugger. He smelled delicious, so Annie did actually close her eyes when during their near embrace. Tom didn’t say terribly much but then the Solomons had a way of taking over, and it was hard to get a word in when they did.

In the Uber on the way to the house, Annie had gone over the list in her mind. Carmen’s boyfriends. It wasn’t a long list, nor was it especially memorable. Just the usual nice Midwestern boys with soft middles and names like Chad, Derek, and Terrence. Nobody special. Everybody nice and neat. Safe.

She had indulged her friend’s crush on Tom from the beginning, laughing whenever Carmen learned some new thing about him. Because Carmen wasn’t usually prone to crushes. But she was a romantic. Even if her relationships were not particularly strong or long-lived, a fact that Annie was inclined to blame on her infatuation.

Tom wasn’t just an infatuation. Not anymore.

No longer a moving image on a screen, not a voice chiming in to say hi during long distance calls. Tom was the man for whom her best friend had fallen. The man who had loved her, had lived with her, and promised to be hers forever. And then one summer day, he had broken her heart. More than that —  he had nearly destroyed her.

But standing there, leaning against the bookcase, he didn’t look like anyone’s ruin, least of all Carmen’s.

Tom was talking to Aaron while at their feet Doron ran his trains over the carpet. When Aaron turned his attention to a particular volume, Tom glanced at Carmen, who was cuddling with Heidi on the couch. And when he did, his eyes grew soft and wide. A tender smile curled his lips. When he caught Annie looking at him, he blushed. Just a little, and then he returned to his conversation with Aaron.

Annie wanted to like him. She sincerely hoped that she would.

* * *

Tom didn’t think she’d be so tall.

Annie Solomon was 5’8”, just two inches taller than Carmen, but never wore anything shorter than 2” heels. She was busty and long-limbed, with strawberry blonde hair that trailed in loose spirals down her back. Freckles everywhere, from the top of her high forehead to her arms and hands with their bitten-down nails and down her legs to her feet.

It was clear to see where Heidi and Doron had gotten their blond curls and blue eyes. But where her children looked at any and every new thing with curiosity and delight, Annie’s gaze was immediately sharp, and unmistakably wary.

After Tom took her hand, she squeezed it tight then pulled him in. He didn’t usually follow someone’s lead into the hug. Always the one to hug rather than be hugged, this time Tom let himself be lead. Because this wasn’t just anybody. This was Annie, her closest and most cherished friend. He held his breath until he felt a soft, awkward pat around his right shoulder, and before he knew it Annie had let him go.

When Annie returned from the bathroom, she and Carmen headed into the kitchen to start serving the meal they had made. Tom was about to help when Carmen nudged him towards the table. As it was already set, he didn’t see anything to do. At least until he saw Doron sitting on a chair, his head just clearing the table top. Tom grabbed a cushion from the couch and, after sliding his arm around the little one, lifted Doron so he could seat him on the pillow. The boy squealed his delight and appreciation at this gesture.

Aaron Solomon was affable and casual, laughing easily during the meal as he and Tom got to talking. With olive skin and head buzzed in deference to hair that had begun to thin when he was a young man, Aaron was not fair and freckled like his wife and children. He had been drawn to the books in the house, exclaiming over the collection even as they ate. Tom liked Aaron immediately. Everybody did.

“Yeah, man, I studied abroad here for a year when we were in school.” Aaron’s hazel eyes lit up as he recounted his days as a student. “I was up at Trinity, reading medieval languages.”

“Cambridge?” Tom grinned when Aaron nodded. “That’s where I attended university.”

“Awesome! What did you study, man? Hold on, lemme guess. We were just looking at your books.” Aaron rubbed his chin in contemplation. “So much film, but that was more theory, so could be Carmen’s. Aristophanes… The Republic…” He shot Tom a hopeful look. “Classics?”

“Right on!” Tom laughed. “How did you get that?”

“It’s his hobby,” Annie said mischievously. “Aaron likes to judge people by their book covers.”

Aaron huffed, but did so with a smile on his face. “Jeez, Anne, when you say it like that, you make me sound so…”

“Judgmental?”

“Hilarious,” drawled Aaron. He turned back to Tom. “It was easy, man. Those books looked the oldest and the most worn out. Ink stains on the edges.”

“Just call him Sherlock Solomon,” chirped Carmen.

“Anyway, Cambridge was great.” Aaron smiled ruefully at Carmen. “You missed out.”

“Ugh.” Carmen threw her hands up. “Don’t remind me, Aaron.”

“I’m still mad at him, you know.” Annie narrowed her eyes. [“Stupid Jordy, making you turn down a year of Cambridge so you could stay in Chicago and look after him.”](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4653450/chapters/10618122)

“Mom!” Heidi admonished her mother. “Stupid’s a bad word.”

“It isn’t, not really,” replied Annie. “But Jordy was a bad boy. He wasn’t nice to your Aunt Carmen.”

Heidi looked up at Carmen, a fierce look in her eyes. “I hate him.”

“But it was ages ago, love,” Carmen exclaimed. “You don’t even know him!”

“Well, I don’t know Donald Trump, but I know he’s a butt so…” Heidi squealed when Carmen goosed her.

Doron crawled into his mother’s lap, exclaiming “She said butt, mama!”

Heidi picked up Carmen’s right hand, with it’s sparkling aquamarine ring, and looked at the stone in the late morning light.

“You wanna try it on?” Carmen whispered. She got her reply when Heidi carefully slid the ring off and placed it on her own thumb. “Tom gave that to me.”

Heidi looked thoughtful. “Is Tom your boyfriend?”

“Yes, bunny.”

“That means you like him?” Heidi bit her lip. “Like, like him?”

“It means I love him,” said Carmen, pressing her lips to the child’s forehead for a kiss before Heidi began to giggle.

“You said love, Aunt Carmen!” Heidi collapsed when Carmen tickled her, her giggles becoming shrieks of raucous laughter.”

“Okay, that’s enough, Heidi.” Annie admonished her daughter gently. She squeezed Doron, then sighed. “You still hungry?”

Doron shook his head, then slid out of his mother’s arms to the floor. Once he popped up to his feet, he ran around the table, flinging himself at his sister. “Wrestle me! Wrestle me!”

“Not here. Come on. In the back garden.” Taking them by the hand, Carmen took them out while inside Tom began to clear the table. Annie started scraping plates and stacking cups.

“Oh, you can leave that…” Tom started to say, but Annie shook her head at him.

“I insist, seeing as how our friend Carmen left you in the lurch, dish-wise.”

“Well, she cooks, I clean.” He smiled at Aaron, who nodded.

“That’s how it works at our house, too.” Aaron stood, reaching for napkins to ball up when Annie shook her head. “What is it, honey?”

“I think we got this, babe.” She chuckled when a loud yell from one of the children interrupted her train of thought. “Get some air. Make sure the kids aren’t killing Carmen with love, yeah?”

Aaron loped off, leaving Tom and Annie alone, still standing at the table. Tom couldn’t avoid the scrutiny of her gaze as he paused for an inspection. Throughout the meal he had wondered if the food was alright, did the lounge and its furnishings meet her approval. Was the bathroom clean enough, and why didn’t he think of that before Annie took Doron upstairs to use it. He should have dressed up, perhaps put on the black sweater with the shawl collar over his plain blue t-shirt. Carmen liked that sweater.

“So…” “So…” They spoke at the same time, then laughed together.

Tom cleared his throat. “You can leave the clean-up to me, Annie. I know Carmen has been longing to see you.”

“Yes, of course. But I must insist.” Annie picked up a stack of bowls. “We’ll clean and have a nice little chat. We’re due for a talk, don’t you think?” She turned to go, stopped, then turned to face him with a tentative smile on her face.

“Come on. It’ll be over before you know it.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Annie and Tom have some tea after brunch. Annie finally gets to ask Tom her question.

Annie and Tom got to work putting the kitchen to right. Tom wedged leftover waffles and fruit salad and roasted potatoes into containers, slotting them all into the refrigerator wherever he could find room. Annie washed by hand heavy pans and platters, whatever did not fit in the dishwasher. Through the kitchen window, they could see and hear Heidi and Doron in the garden as they put on an impromptu dance recital, much to Aaron and Carmen’s delight.

Tom laughed when Doron stood one-legged for a moment before collapsing in a fit of giggles on the soft grass. He turned to Annie and smiled.

“They’re amazing,” he said.

“I guess they’re okay.” Annie’s gentle laugh gave her away. “Okay, they’re pretty great. Do you have siblings?”

“Two sisters.”

“Older? Younger?”

“One of each,” Tom said. “You?”

“One younger sister. We’re Irish twins, actually.” Annie rolled her eyes.

“So you were born less than a year apart?” Tom whistled.

“And in the same calendar year, to boot.”

“Your poor parents!”

“Our poor mother, actually.” Annie squared her shoulders. “Dad took off right after Anna was born.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Thanks, Tom. I appreciate that.”

Tom tilted his head. “Wait, your sister’s name is Anna?”

“Anne and Anna? Yeah.” She nodded. “When mom likes a name, she really likes it.”

“My sisters are Sarah and Emma,” said Tom. “No confusion there.”

“Lucky them.”

Annie set the last pot on the counter, turning it over onto a tea towel to dry. Seeing that she was finished, Tom reached for the electric kettle.

“Tea?” he asked. “I always make myself a cup after tidying up in here.”

“Yes, please.” replied Annie. “I’d like that.”

“Tea’s in there.” Tom indicated the cupboard just to the right of the window. “I think you’ll find we have quite an assortment.”

“Quite an assortment” ended up being a fully stocked cupboard, where brightly covered boxes were stacked neatly alongside tins of various sizes and shapes.

Annie looked at Tom, who was now leaning against the kitchen counter. “I’d say it’s excessive but then you are English so…”

Tom chuckled. “Most of that is Carmen’s, actually. I’m a coffee drinker myself.”

“Same here.” Annie returned her attention to the tea. “Which one’s her favorite?”

“The Queen Anne,” said Tom.

Annie put a bag in each of the mugs Tom set out, then watched him make the tea from her seat at the kitchen table. There was an open packet of chocolate digestives, but she refused the offer of one when Tom joined her. She took a splash of milk with her tea, and nothing else.

The biscuit Tom took for himself seemed to crunch so loudly as he ate it. He looked in Annie’s direction but didn’t quite meet her eyes. Tom had never known a pregnant pause quite as deliberately silent as this. It was when he turned his head towards the window again, wondering how everybody was doing outside, that Annie broke the silence.

“It’s our anniversary, Carmen and me.” Annie set her mug down but kept her hands wrapped around it. It was all of a sudden rather cool in the kitchen, and she craved warmth. “We met twenty years ago this week. O-Week, actually.”

“O-Week?”

“Orientation Week,” Annie explained. “Just across the street from the library, almost on the same spot where you two met.”

“Oh?”

“We were walking into convocation, or was it the campus safety and security presentation? Not nearly as exciting as when you two…” Annie couldn’t resist smirking.

Tom’s cheeks were very red. “Well…”

“At least you had the sense to wait until you got into the car.” Annie frowned. “But did you have to do it in a stretch limo?”

Tom sputtered. “What? It’s not like I planned… it was the car they gave me…”

“I didn’t think she had it in her, frankly.” Annie’s widened, her mouth open in mock surprise. “So I guess that means…”

“Are you suggesting it was my fault?”

“If the limo fits…” Annie sipped her tea and tried not to look smug.

Tom knew she was just kidding. Wasn’t she? When she reached over and patted his hand, his suspicion was confirmed.

“Sorry, it’s just…” Annie shook her head. “Never mind. This isn’t what I came here to talk to you about.”

Ah. There it was. A penny flung into the air had now come back to earth, only to spin on its edge in circles while he waited for her to speak. Tom didn’t feel as though he had been disarmed, because he didn’t want to assume immediately that this would be a confrontation. He understood, however, that there were questions to which Annie sought answers.

“After that first time.” Annie’s mug was empty but she did not refill it. Instead she watched Tom as he poured fresh, still hot water from the kettle.

“Yeah?” Tom hoped she didn’t notice the slight tremor in his hand as he poured water for himself.

“Why didn’t you call her?”

“She left me in the middle of the night.”

“I know that, but it’s not like you didn’t know her name. You could have searched for a number or an email address. Looked her up on Twitter, even.”

“I figured that she didn’t want me to contact her. That what we had that night was just…” Tom bit his lip. “A one time thing.”

“Was she the last?” Annie peered at him.

“No, she wasn’t.”

“Alright…”

“But then I wasn’t hers either, was I?” Tom said abruptly.

“No,” admitted Annie. “You weren’t.”

“Yes.”

“Because you saw each other again.”

“That’s right. A happy accident. Luck, actually.” Tom shrugged.

“You believe in luck?”

“I didn’t used to,” said Tom. He looked into Annie’s eyes, finding them bright. Her gaze was still sharp. “I do now.”

“What changed your mind?”

“She did.”

Annie’s lips curled slightly into a tiny smile. “Good answer.”

“It’s the truth,” said Tom, simply.

“What was it? What did she do to make you realize that it was lucky that you met her, fate that brought you two together?”

Tom frowned. “This is going to sound strange.”

“Try me.”

“It’s like, as soon as…” Tom looked out the window, noting with annoyance if not surprise that the sky was still gray. “The first time I saw her, I knew her. Just by looking at her face, listening to her laughter. And when she looked back, caught me staring at her.” He leaned in. “She knew me, too.”

“Well, she recognized you, surely,” said Annie. “You’re famous, Tom. You must get that all the time. Fans, anyone who’s seen you in the movies.”

Tom shook his head. “She saw me. Not the friendly or, let’s face it, perpetually eager to please regular guy who would never grumble if he gets stopped for a selfie. Or used to, anyway. She saw me after a nine hour flight, where I’d gotten  _ maybe _ three hours of sleep. Unshaven, face red from the cold and the hot towel I used to wipe the sleep from my eyes. That sort of in between state of mind and body when you’ve landed but you’re still waiting to arrive. I got driven through a frozen city on a frozen lake into a too bright building with so many people who could care less who I was or what I did or where I went to school. The library with its dome, the hum of activity and I was out of sorts. And I know it’s a cliché and feel free to doubt me or mock me but I swear to you, the first time I saw Carmen.” He paused, taking a breath as he composed himself. “The world stopped. Because that’s what it does when your life changes.”

Annie sat back in her chair. Crossed her arms and considered, which did little to ease Tom’s uncertainty. When she looked up at him, she had a rueful, almost forlorn look on her face.

“Alright.”

“Alright?” Tom cleared his throat, then took a sip of tea.

“Thank you,” whispered Annie. “For sharing that.”

“You’re welcome…”

“So forgive me for asking. Tom.”

She furrowed her brow, concentrating as she searched for the right words.

“What do you think happened to the world, her world, the day you told her you were leaving her for someone else?”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tom responds to Annie's question.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The planned for evisceration of one Tom Hiddleston did not happen. Please try not to be so disappointed.

It was the rare occasion when Tom was caught short. He was fastidious, had been ever since he was a student. As an actor, he strived to be nothing less than immaculate in his preparation. It wasn’t fussiness so much as precision that characterized the way he wished to work.

While he could be quick with a quip, and sometimes elegant with a spontaneous turn of phrase (which was useful when it came to flirtation), Tom was not especially skilled when it came to improvisation. It did not come naturally to him.  Also, he was not fond of surprises.

He knew Annie wanted to talk about… it. And Tom wasn’t about to deny her but it was startling to him. The question, and the way she put it. But how else could she have said it? What language, what euphemism would have made the question less personal, less probing, less painful, just… less?

_ “What do you think happened to the world, her world, the day you told her you were leaving her for someone else?” _

Was there time left to form the beginning of a response that would no doubt fail to be of any satisfaction? Forget trying to sound coherent, let alone cogent. Tom didn’t even try to convince himself in those seconds that whatever he said would make any kind of sense or reconcile himself to Annie.

For a moment, Tom was caught in a memory. A Sunday in June. A stolen half hour on the phone as he was escorted to a big white house that sat above a pristine New England beach. He was poised to make an auspicious public debut. All he had to do, then, was play the part, and be convincing in it. Do it for the agreed upon three month run, with the very slight chance that, depending on critical reception and audience reaction, the performance might be extended. A road show, not a residency. But before all of that — a half hour. Thirty minutes to cut a string, break one heart if not two (because he was selfish enough to consider himself) even as he begged her to understand, and stop the world again.

Sitting opposite him, Annie appeared to falter. Forehead creased, she leaned across the table with her hand outstretched. Was this a gesture of sympathy, or apology? Or did she want to assess the damage after what had been a hard and heavy hit?

“There…” Tom traced a finger around the rim of his mug before pushing it away. His eyes flicked up to meet her gaze. “There will never be anything I can tell you that will be anything close to a satisfactory answer to your question.” He paused, waiting to see if she would say something in reply. Annie merely pressed her lips together.

So he went on. “And I am not certain that there is a way that I can defend my actions without it sounding like gross condescension.”

“Your actions, Tom.” Annie tucked a lock of hair behind her right year. “Your actions were indefensible.”

“But that doesn’t mean they cannot be explained.”

“Oh?” Annie thought for a moment. “Okay. Go on.”

“Is that a demand for an explanation?”

“Think of it as an invitation,” said Annie evenly.

“I respectfully decline.”

“Because you don’t know the answer?”

“Because you already do,” said Tom, gently, turning his attention back to his mug.

“That’s right,” Annie conceded. “And I couldn’t do anything to help her.”

“No.”

“I held my breath. Waited.”

Tom looked up at her. “Really?”

The corner of Annie’s mouth tugged up, producing a grin. “I may have bought a plane ticket.”

“To fly here to be by her side?” Tom guessed. “Or to come up to Rhode Island and kick my ass?”

“Both.” Annie couldn’t resist shooting him a sly smile. “I have a lot of miles saved up.”

“What would you have said?”

“To you?” When Tom nodded, Annie looked uncertain. “Are you sure?”

“No, but…” He sighed. “Please.”

Annie placed her hands flat on the table in front of her, inspecting them with their long freckled fingers and the vintage cocktail ring she wore as her wedding ring.

“I didn’t know you, Tom. But I didn’t think much of the fact that, by that time, last summer, we had never actually met. You weren’t a secret, exactly, but it felt like, to me, anyway… that Carmen was keeping you from me. Protecting me. And I wondered: was she ashamed of me? Was there something about you she didn’t want me to know? That you asked her not to say?”

“Never,” said Tom.

“It’s just that…” Annie considered again. “The most important person in my best friend’s life, and I had no idea that you even existed until you’d been seeing each other for two months.”

“Which is not a long time,” Tom pointed out.

“Granted, but by then you had already told her that you loved her.”

“Yes. I had.” Tom smiled.

“And she loved you, too.”

“I didn’t waste any time.”

“No,” Annie agreed. “You certainly did not.”

“I think the reason she waited, that  _ we _ waited, actually,” said Tom. He rubbed his hand along his jaw, idly scratching his beard. “And this is my thinking, though at the time, I don’t think I was aware of it…”

Leaning in, Annie propped her chin up with her hand. “Yeah?”

“I am not possessive. Which is probably for the best, because you know as well as I do that Carmen tends to be jealous.”

Annie snorted. “ _ Tends _ to be?”

“I’m going to tell her you said it like that.”

“Go ahead!”

“As I was saying,” Tom continued, arching his eyebrow. “I am not possessive, but the way we met. The way we became friends, fell in love… it was fast but it felt right.” He quickly wiped away a tear that had begun to form in the corner of his right eye. “She was home.”

“Of course,” said Annie.

“I just wanted her to myself. Not forever. Not to keep her away from the people and the places — you, Chicago in general -- that she loves. Just time and space where we could be ourselves, and I didn’t have to worry about the world knowing who she was, and what she was to me.”

“Not because you were ashamed…”

“No,” said Tom.

“But because you wanted to shield her. Protect her.”

“Exactly.”

“But last summer…” Annie said, carefully. “You may have still loved her, but her security was gone. She can stand up for herself but you left her alone. Suddenly, and with no good explanation for it.” Annie wiped away a tear of her own. “You wasted no time in falling for her, and you wasted no time in leaving her.”

Tom shut his eyes and breathed. He listened to the creak of Annie’s chair, felt the slight tremor as she scooted forward so she could take his hand in hers and squeeze it.

“You’re a good man, Tom,” Annie murmured.

“We lost three months, Annie.”

“I know.”

“We can’t get them back.”

“No.”

Tom opened his eyes, and was grateful to find Annie smiling at him.

“Is there anything we can do?” Tom asked. “For her?”

“I think we already did,” said Annie.

“What’s that?”

“I think we just became friends.” Annie leaned in and hugged him, resting her cheek against his shoulder.

Tom closed his eyes, and let himself be held. When Annie gently released him, he was relaxed.

Until she flicked him, hard, on the forehead.

“Ow!”

“Sorry, friend.” Annie looked mischievous.

“What was that for?” Tom scowled.

“Friend to friend. Tom. Seriously. if you ever pull a stunt like that again…”

“Let me guess…” Tom muttered.

“I’m going to punch you in the dick!” Annie cried triumphantly.

“WHAT.”

The sound of Carmen’s voice, made higher by uncertainty, pierced the cool air of the kitchen. She stood in the doorway, Heidi by her side, and looked at them.

“Oh nothing,” said Annie airily. “Tom and I were just getting acquainted.”

“Uh huh.” Carmen still sounded doubtful. “Well, Heidi and I are going to the loo. And when we get back…”

“We’re going to have tea,” Tom declared. “A nice, peaceful, friendly tea.”

“Is there any other kind?” Heidi wondered, following Carmen out of the kitchen.

Instead of leaving the comfort of Tom and Carmen’s cozy house to explore the city, they remained at their hosts’ invitation. Whiling the afternoon away, talking and amusing the children or letting themselves be entertained by their impromptu dance performances. Doron fell asleep against Tom after Carmen put on  _ The Pirate Fairy _ only so she could make Tom sing the songs. There was takeaway pizza for supper, and for pudding a banoffee pie that Carmen had hidden in the pantry. Soon, much too soon, it was time to say goodbye.

“Good bye,” whispered Carmen, kneeling on the floor so she could hug the children. “Happy new year. Happy belated Rosh Hashanah.”

_ “Shanah tovah!” _ Heidi replied. “Say it back to me, Aunt Carmen.”

_ “Shanah tovah,” _ said Carmen. “ _ Leshana tovah tikatev v’tichatem.” _

“Dude. Yes!” Aaron was pleased. “You learning Hebrew, Car?”

“No. Just years of hanging out with you turkeys.” She shrugged. “Or maybe I looked it up on the internet.”

“I knew it,” said Aaron with mock disappointment.

“What’s it mean?” Tom asked.

“May you be written and sealed for a good year,” Annie explained.

“In the Book of Life,” said Heidi seriously.

“I see,” said Tom. “It sounds serious.”

“Sacred, more like,” said Annie, looking at him. “It’s not a judgment, Tom. It’s a blessing,”

“I like the sound of that,” Tom said. He held out a hand to help Carmen back to her feet. He laughed to himself when she threw her arms around him.

_ “Gemar chatimah tovah,” _ said Annie, more to herself than to him or anyone else.”I thought you might.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now that Annie and Aaron and Heidi and Doron have gone, Tom and Carmen can wind down. Which is to say, they bang on the couch.

Carmen sat on the couch, flipping through photos on her phone while in the kitchen, Tom hunted for something to satisfy his sweet tooth.

“Pie or ice cream?” Tom asked, peeking into the lounge.

Without looking up, she replied: “Yes.”

“Well, which is it?”

Carmen turned her head to face him. “Both.”

Tom managed to scowl and to smile at the same time. “There’s only one serving left of each, love.”

She gave him her most winsome look. “One dish. Two spoons.”

Tom emerged from the kitchen, bearing a slice of banoffee pie covered in the last scoop of salted caramel ice cream from a pint he found at the back of the freezer.

Evening came earlier each night, and so they sat in twilight, not bothering to turn on a lamp even as the light in the room faded into a cool darkness. Annie and Aaron and the kids had only just left. Now that they were alone and no longer expecting visitors, Carmen had taken off her bra and changed into a threadbare button-down shirt and shorts. Tom still wore his blue t-shirt but had exchanged his jeans for sweatpants. His bare feet made faint sounds against the hardwood floor as he padded into the lounge.

The bright glow of the phone’s display gave enough light as long as they huddled close to examine the pictures. Carmen paused every so often so Tom could spoon bites of pie and ice cream into her mouth.

Heidi and Carmen at the dining room table, giggling.

_Swipe._

A smiling Tom holding Doron in his arms, the little boy patting Tom’s beard.

_Swipe._

Carmen and Annie in the garden, Annie’s arm flung casually around Carmen at the shoulders while Heidi executed a cartwheel just in front of them.

_Swipe._

Aaron and Tom standing together, heads back and eyes shaded by their hands as they squinted at something in the sky.

_Swipe._

Tom and Carmen leaning down into the frame, posing for a photo taken by Doron.

_Swipe._

Carmen lying on the grass, laughing after having been tackled by Tom who lay on top of her, face turned to the side so he could press his cheek to her heart.

 _Swipe_.

Carmen tossed the phone onto the coffee table, next to the empty dish set down by Tom when they finished eating. Before she knew it, she was being maneuvered into lying on her back, Tom grasping her at the hips, helping her scoot up so the two of them could stretch out fully. A throw pillow supported Carmen’s head, neck, and shoulders, propping her up so she could easily kiss the top of Tom’s head when he pressed his face into the nape of her neck.

“That tickles.” Carmen smiled to herself. “Your beard.”

“Good,” replied Tom.

“Thank you,” she said sweetly.

“You’re welcome.” Tom closed his eyes. “What are you thanking me for?”

“Today.” She kissed his temple. “Everybody just hanging out. Kids running all over the house.”

“What else would we have done?”

“Dunno,” she replied. “Gone to a museum. Primrose Hill. Get the kids out of the house. Give you a little room, some space. Hamlet only ended last night…”

“And this was a perfect way to wind down from that.” Tom lifted his head, a serious expression in his eyes. “I mean that.”

She nodded. “What did you think of Annie?”

“She’s brilliant.”

“I thought so.” Carmen stifled a giggle. “I mean, you two are both Aquariuses, and I know how you air signs like to stick together.”

“Very funny,” drawled Tom. He rested his head against Carmen, and considered. “She loves you.”

“I know it.”

“She misses you.”

“I miss her, too.”

Before he could speak again, Carmen said: “That looked like an intense talk I interrupted earlier.”

Tom nodded. “It was.”

“How did…? Are you…?”

She wasn’t sure what she was asking so Tom asked for her.

“Did we clear the air?”

“Did it need to be cleared?”

“Not as much as I had thought it might.”

Carmen tightened her embrace. “What else?”

“Annie did say we became friends,” said Tom.

“That’s lovely, Tom.”

“And then she flicked me on the forehead for last summer.”

Carmen couldn’t help laughing. “Beats a punch in the dick, doesn’t it?”

“I would say so.”

When Carmen yawned, so did he.

“Sleepy, Button?” Tom asked.

“Not yet,” she replied with a cuddle. “Mindless telly?”

Tom reached for the remote control on the coffee table, using it to turn on the television before handing it over.

Carmen recited the names of shows as she idly flipped through the channels. “Britain Beneath Your Feet?”

“Travel? History? Both?”

“I’m not sure.”

“Sounds positively soporific,” said Tom.

“What about _The Hobbit_? I think I liked it when I saw it years ago.” She set down the remote control. ”Though it’s kinda hard to get it up for Martin Freeman when he’s a hobbit.”

“You find it easy to get it up for him when he’s just himself?” Tom muttered.

“Oh I don’t know…” Carmen sounded coy.

“Yes you do,” said Tom, tartly.

“There’s something about a newly single man.” She sighed when Tom began to suck on her neck. “Sharp dresser. That gorgeous silvery hair sort of swept up. Sort of world weary.”

“Tired, more like.” Tom nipped at her throat. “Old man.”

“Older men have seen more places,” whispered Carmen. “Done more things. Know more tricks.”

Lifting his head, Tom looked at her skeptically but said nothing.

“So I’ve been told,” she purred.

Carmen licked her lips just as Tom moved up to nibble at the corner of her mouth. He tasted cream and a hint of burnt sugar, sweet and silky. Her delicate tongue flicking around his until he sucked gently on the tip.

When Tom released it, he licked longer and deeper. Carmen made a sound at the back of her throat, a sort of whine that sent a soft tremor to up to his lips, and through him. And then shivers, up and down his back, Carmen following them as she trailed her fingers up and down his spine.

“It’s a shame,” Tom nuzzled her cheek.

“What is?” Carmen’s eyes fluttered shut when she heard him moan in her ear.

“He’s got… small hands,” he replied, slipping his arms around her so he could palm her ass and squeeze.

“Well…. _oh_.” Carmen gasped when he licked just behind her ear. “He’d get a good handful.”

“Would he now?”

Tom began to unbutton her top. He toyed with her, running the tips of his fingers over her nipples.

“What about a mouthful, then?” Tom growled.

“I… I think…” Carmen stammered.

“I’m sorry?” Tom said in a nonchalant tone, inwardly taking delight at her frustration, the quickening of breath. “What was that?”

“He could… he…” She rasped.

Tom cut her off when he pressed his tongue to one breast, pressing against the nipple before closing his lips around it to suck. He circled the nipple of the other breast slowly with his index finger. Beneath him, Carmen squirmed, her back arching into him, desirous for friction, contact, heat. Tom shifted his weight, angling so he could grind into the soft flesh of her inner thigh.

Carmen’s fingers tightened, tugged at his curls, bringing him up so his lips could be on hers. Tongue relentless, kissing her. Hands taking and pulling, shorts down and sweatpants kicked off. Peeling off shirts to make a pile on the floor. Legs spreading and then the soft grit of his thighs, covered as they were in a fine layer of golden hair, on her skin. Close, then closer still. It wasn’t much that Tom had to do. To be inside her. And she wanted him there. She needed him.

But Tom was intent. Determined to take his time and savor her.

A gentle lick of his tongue became a slow wet swirl. The brush of his fingers upgraded to a brief pinch. Pink, newly flushed skin reddened under his lips, his teeth, tongue, and hands. A slow lazy trail of kisses and bites, his lips made their way up from her nipples to her own mouth. A large warm hand slithered down, over the belly, and found its place between Carmen’s legs.

“You’re so wet…” Tom moaned between kisses. “So hot.” His fingers teased her clit, circling and touching, then slipped in. _“Fuck.”_

“Tom… I… oh…” Breaths and whispers. The only sounds she could manage. Carmen’s words were gone. They left her. The only thing left was him.

Carmen’s hands were clumsy, scrabbling for anything that would stop the world from spinning even when she shut her eyes. She clung to him, whimpering into his neck as his fingers moved faster. Her hips ached as she spread her legs wider.

Tom groaned when she took him in hand, running her palm up and down the underside of his cock. Her grasp was gentle but urgent, fingers closing around the shaft so she could slowly pump him.

Tom had hardly settled into her, making himself more comfortable on the couch before she began to slowly rub the head against her clit. How long could she make this exquisite torture last. How long before he begged to thrust.

“Please…” he said, his jaw moving into a clench not of frustration but anticipation.

“Yes.”

And then he was kneeling on the floor, gently moving Carmen so she lay before him. She kept her hand in place even as he entered her, leaving it there when Tom went in for a quick kiss. When he had straightened out and begun to move in earnest, she fingered her clit and watched him.

“Mine’s the pleasure, love,” whispered Tom, replacing her finger with his. His other hand held her leg up by his shoulder, close enough that he could turn his head and press soft kisses just to her knee. Carmen stretched her arms out, then bent them so she could hold onto the back of the couch.

Tom had a perfect view — of her face as it contorted with pleasure, her breasts bouncing, the skin still flushed. Her belly and hips, so soft and round. The smooth inner thighs and her sex, hot and wet and tight and _right_. The tight feeling was still there, of getting closer and closer but it wasn’t enough. Cock hard and big, Tom was at the mercy of his body and hers. The desire to be within, to touch and fuck and, of course, love.

Now she was laughing but it was sexy and sweet and so inviting. He bowed forward, and then she was hugging him. Sweaty and sticky, but there was no way she was letting him go. It was awkward, as his hand was still caught between them, and then she began to shake. His fingers on her clit were faster and just a little rougher and all of a sudden she leaned and he was hitting that spot, just inside. Locking her ankles behind him, Carmen trapped Tom in her arms as she began to come. No more laughter, just the primal sobs that come with release and relief.

When she felt him tighten, Carmen held on so she could feel Tom come inside her. She felt rather than heard the gasps coming from his lips, and was selfish in her touch. Despite the fact that she was still shivering, still so sensitive after her own climax, it wasn’t enough. She wanted his, too.

The night was dark, and the air was cool. The movie still played on the television, casting strange shadows on Tom’s naked back as he faced away from the screen. Carmen’s eyes were shut, and her thighs burned from having been pushed apart and then up and then apart again. Tom was heavy against her. He was perfect. She nuzzled his cheek, rubbed against that delicious beard, then kissed him. Pursing her lips, she puffed into his open, slack mouth. Carmen was exhausted and spent and sore. But what little breath she could muster was everything she had, so of course she felt it was her privilege to give it to him.


End file.
